MaryAnne: Supermodel
by Golden Snitch1981
Summary: Mary-Anne is a finalist of America's Top Model. Can she make it all the way?
1. Finding a Place

No one expected it to happen, least of all me. It should have been Stacey, after all I was only ment to be moral support.

I, Mary-Anne Spier have been chosen as a finalist in America's Next Top Model. It was Stacey who suggested I try out for it, but I had protested. I was not model material. I had never had the desire to be one, but here I was, facing the first challenge as a finalist.

Tigger was my "motivation" for the photoshoot and my face was made up as a grey tabby cat with whiskers. I was crouched on my hands and knees batting at a ball of string as my kitten would have done.

Tyra held my photo in the air and it was evidence that I did not have a clue about modelling.

Nevertheless I was safe from elimination for that week. I wondered what it was the judges saw in me to want to keep me.

I've always been shy and a little afraid to let go. I'm super sensitive or as my friend, Kristy would call, a drip and I have always been a plain Jane, never believing that I was beautiful. Stacey was beautiful with her blond hair and New York sophistication. Dawn with her cornsilk white blond hair was beautiful, just as Jessi with her cocoa skin and ballerina's grace and stature, would far surpass any of the girls I was to live with while I was part of the show.

Yet none of them were here and I was instead. I guess they saw past my mousy features and found something else, what I'll never know.

Staceynever even made the first round, but instead of being disappointed, she was so proud of me and told me So, that night after the first elimination. Living with eighteen other girls, many of them much more serious about winning ANTM that I would ever be, was not easy. I had left the safety of Stonybrook Connecticut, my friends, family and Logan and entered a world of bitchiness and sabotage. I was not used to it all and I was more than a little overwhelmed and I was dabbing my wet eyes with a cleenex as I spoke to Stacey.

"They're so bitchy," I sobbed. Then I relayed the story of the mayonaise one of the girls put in my shampoo bottle.

"Oats!" Stacey exclaimed suddenly and I was immediately confused, but not for long. She was excited as she continued, "Put oats in her moisturiser ."

"Stace, you know I can't do that." Although it did sound tempting, Kristy was the practical joker out of all of my friends and me.

"Okay, but stand your ground, Mary-Anne. Don't let those ditches push you out. You deserve to be there."

It ment the world to me to hear those words from Stacey. "Do you really think so?"

I could almost hear her nodding on the other end of the phone. "Of course I do, and so do the judges. That's why they picked you and why you're still there."

When I hung up the phone I was gasping with sobs and I was missing home worse than ever.

In the large living room, Josie the tall red head from Texas was hurling swears at Emily the superbitch from Michigan. Emily was laughing historically in a high pitch, her black curls shaking with the force of it.

I snuck past them and was almost in my room, when Josie called my name. "Mary-Anne! Hey Mary-Anne!"

I turned around.

"Is she crying again?" Emily asked, mockingly.

"Leave her alone, Emily." She bounded after me as I continued into my room.

An arm was around my shoulders as I flopped onto my bed. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"This is all so overwhelming." I buried my head in Josie's shoulder. "I don't belong here."

"You're a threat to them, to all of us. Some of those girls want to win more than anything they're struggling to show the judges what they've got."

"As am I." I said.

"Not as much as you think. Your photos are gorgeous!"

"Really?" I was starting to feel cheered up.

Josie nodded.

At that moment we shared an unspoken vow to stick together through the the next few weeks. Maybe it wasn't going to be all that bad after all.


	2. MaryAnne Fights Back

It wasn't until I crawled into bed that night, that I noticed another prank, that Emily had pulled on me. I tried to stretch my legs out, but there was a barrier stopping me. Emily had short-sheted my bed. "That is it!" I screamed, ripping my sheets off the bed and commencing remaking my bed. That was when I found the ants, in the mattress. I hauled my down bedspread out into the living room and settled on the sofa for the night. I could hear Emily and a few of the girls giggling, maliciously as they watched from the hall.

I rolled over to face the back of the couch and pulled the blanket over my head, so I wouldn't see them. I couldn't believe how mean some girls were. I knew there were some snooty cows back at school, but these girls made Cokie Mason and her side-kicks look like sweet little angels. That night taught me that to survive I was going to have to fight the war against these girls. Stacey's idea of putting oats in Emily's moisturiser looked more and more attractive, the more I thought about it.

I waited until the rest of the girls were asleep, before creeping to the kitchen, opening the pantry door and finding the box of oats. I tipped some into a cup and went to the bathroom to find Emily's moisturiser. Opening the lid, I took a smell. It was strong! I tipped the oats into it and replaced the lid, then shook it until it was all mixed together. Then I placed it back exactly where I found it and left the bathroom, settling back under my blanket on the sofa.

Then the guilt began to eat at me. I'm not mean! Why am I stooping to this level? I bigger than that! "But," another voice told me. "These aren't normal circumstances and these aren't your average, run-of-the-mill mean-girls." There were some real bitches in the competition and they wanted to win so bad that they would step on everybody who got in their way to get there. I flicked on the TV and turned the volume down low.

I flicked through the channels; nothing but infomercials until I found a late night showing of National Velvet. Instantly I thought of Mallory and Jessi, who would have loved that movie because it was about their favourite thing in the world – horses. Then I thought of my stepsister, Dawn, who generally just loved old movies. Getting teary, I began to think of everyone in the BSC. They were my best friends and even though we disbanded the Babysitters' Club at the end of the eighth grade, we remained friends. I was going to make them all proud, as well as my Dad, Sharon and everyone in Stoneybrook. I was going to conquer the bitches I lived with in the Top-Model house, because I was Mary-Anne and even though I was a supersensitive drip, I was strong, when I needed to be. That night, I vowed, that I Mary-Anne Spier was not only going to survive, I was going to do everything I could to win.

The next morning as I poured my cereal into a plate, I heard the scream. "What is going on with this?" Emily cried. I stifled a giggle. Emily had obviously been using her moisturiser and found the oats. "Gross!" she cried. "I'm red!"

Everyone, who was awake, rushed into the bathroom to her aid. I followed, curious to see the result of my prank. "I'm red! It's so itchy!" she was staring at her legs, which were rapidly growing a rash, crying. "I'm going to look like a freak in our shoot, today!"

I covered my mouth and snuck at peak at the other girls. Kylie, from Minnesota, was already at her aid, guiding her into the shower to wash the globs of chunky moisturiser off her legs, while trying her best to not get any of it on her pale skin or in her blonde hair. Tomboy, Ami from the Bronx, was rolling her coal black eyes and looking to the ceiling. Her face soon turned to horror, when the gloop was washed off, but the rash remained.

"I'm allergic to wheat!" Emily cried. "Now what am I going to do?" Her legs were puffing up, by the minute. It was at that moment that Camera-man, Sam, stopped filming, put his camera down and dug through his pocket for his cell-phone. He flipped it open and began dialling 911. My eyes watered over. What had I done? The medics arrived and right away, gave Emily a shot, before taking her away to hospital. After she was gone, there was a letter from Tyra.

_Dear Contestants,_

_A car will arrive to pick you up and take you to your shoot. First however, in light of recent events_ (I cringed)_, you all will be in for a surprise. _

I put the letter down on the table and let my eyes wander around the room. I still had not told anyone it was me, who was responsible for the prank. The cameras rolled as Tyra made an entrance. Her face said it all. Tyra was pissed.

We all sat around the living room, Tyra, on the sofa, where my bedspread was folded and placed at the end of the couch. "So, girls, what's been happening around here?" she asked, glaring around the room at all of us. I didn't know how much she had heard, but I was too scared to fill her in. I swallowed erratically, wishing the floor would open up and swallow me at that moment.

"Someone put oats in Emily's moisturiser," Kylie said, glaring at me. How did she know?

Tyra followed Kylie's glare and rested her own eyes on me. The camera's had also zoomed in on me. "Mary-Anne is this true?" she asked. I nodded, meekly and my eyes spilled over. I produced a Kleenex and began frantically dabbing my eyes.

"Why?" Tyra's voice softened. "Why would you do something like that?" I tried to speak, but the only thing that escaped my lips was a loud sob. "Everybody, please go and get yourself ready for your shoot. I want to talk with Mary-Anne alone." The girls all filed out of the living room and Tyar sat beside me. "Mary-Anne, what's been going on, here? I know things are kind of tough for you right now."

"I –," I slowly managed to compose myself. "Emily put mayonnaise in my shampoo, and then last night she short-sheeted my bed and put ants in my mattress. I slept out here on the sofa last night. I know it was wrong what I did to Emily and I wouldn't have done it if I'd known she was allergic, but at the time I was so upset by what she did. I didn't know what else to do."

"Mary-Anne," Tyra said after a long, drawn out pause. "Modelling is a very cut-throat industry and you'll have to get use to that if you continue with it. I know this competition has been hard for all of you girls. Some of them want it _soo_ bad, and they'll do whatever it takes. I won't tolerate mean-ness though, in this house. Mary-Anne you have to learn to rise above it and be the strong woman, I know you can be."

I nodded. "I will."

"Good girl. I think you have one of the prettiest paces and I know you're going to make a wonderful model, once you loosen up. You're a real contender in this competition." Tyra lectured.

That day, my spirit soared. I was going to prove Tyra right, that day in my photo shoot.


	3. Ice Princess

There I was, shivering with a freezing cold butt, staring into a bright flashing light. I was wearing nothing but a crown as I stood on a block of frost. My hair was blown back by a cold breeze from fan, the buzz of which was like the drone of a jet engine. I'm sure my lips were blue from being so cold, not that anyone could tell, as they were covered in dark pink almost purple lip-gloss. The only thing between my feet and the ice was a thin, velvet sheet of material, and my feet were stinging like never before from the extreme cold. I was sure by the end of it would end up with frost bite.

"Mary-Anne, I want you to give me sexy," the photographer, who's tone of voice was clearly telling me how annoyed he was getting. "Right now, you're giving me a cold fish."

"But it's so cold!" I cried. My teeth were chattering.

"Just a few more shots, but I want you to give me something I can use." He begged, changing his tone, entirely.

"Okay," I answered, fighting back tears.

As I smiled, and turned my shoulder forward, one tear began to slip down my cheek. For a second, my cheek was warm, but as soon as the cold air touched it my cheek was colder than ever. I couldn't cry. I couldn't let my eyes get blotchy and ruin my picture. I remembered what Tyra had said that morning. If I was going to make it as a model I was going to have to toughen up. I wiped the tear away and smiled even brighter than before.

As I stood there I thought about Stacey. She wouldn't have been a blubbering mess in a photo-shoot, like I was. She would have handled it, just as she would have handled the mean girls in the ANTM house. Once again I was feeling guilty for being picked over Stacey to be on the show. Stacey had wanted this more than anyone and Stacey was strong enough to fight every step of the way for it. Stacey, however would have encouraged me through this shoot. "Think of Logan," she would have more than likely told me.

So I thought of Logan. I remembered when we first met and our first sitting job together, for the Rodowskis and handled the peanut butter incident like a pro. Then I thought about our first kiss and my body grew warm as I remembered his arms around me. Then I thought of our first time and how gentle and loving he was and how I so badly wanted to please him. He had told me to relax and just be myself.

"That's good, Mary-Anne. Whatever you're doing keep doing it. This is what I've been after." The Photographer was happily snapping away, but I barely noticed him, as my mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Logan. Suddenly it wasn't so cold anymore.

He had been my first love and even though we had really rocky times throughout the relationship, we were stronger than ever. He had been against me going on the show at first and he would have hated that I was naked on national television, but I knew he would have been proud of me for making it this far in the competition.

"Thank you, Mary-Anne," I heard the photographer call and everyone in that frosty studio began to cheer. "I think we've really got something we can use, here, Mary-Anne. Well done!"

With help, I stepped down off the block and was immediately wrapped in a thick blanket. Then I was whisked into an adjoining room, where a spar was bubbling. The photographer's assistant motioned for me to go in. "You need to warm up."

I unwrapped myself and stepped into what felt like heaven. I let the warmth seep through my skin until I stopped shivering. I closed my eyes and rested my head on the edge of the tub. Suddenly the tears I had fought back on the block, were flowing freely. The combination of missing Logan and my friends, and the ordeal that had been the most challenging photo-shoot, yet, had left me emotional. When the tears subsided I cupped the bubble water in my hand and splashed my blotchy red face. Then I sank lower into the tub until the water was over my head, resting there for half a minute before resurfacing.

I didn't notice that someone had come in and laid my clothes out for me, but when I stepped out of the tub, minutes later, I was glad they were there. I towelled myself dry and quickly dressed. I fixed my hair in a loose messy pony-tail and slipped my flats on. I was ready to face the world again and whatever the girls would throw my way, or at least I thought I was ready for that.

Emily had been treated and released from hospital and was waiting back at the house with a surprise for me. My whole wardrobe was stripped bare, but for a picture of a dead cat. I gasped when I saw it all.

"Right where are they?" I screamed storming into her room, where she was resting with her head against the headboard, flipping through a Cleo magazine.

"What are you talking about?" she asked with feigned ignorance. She smile sweetly and all I wanted to do was barf.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Emily. Where the hell are my clothes?" I demanded.

"Around," she sighed. "Mary-Anne, I'm thirsty. Be a good girl and get me a drink of water."

I groaned heavily. I passed the water-cooler. It was one of those ones with a clear plastic attachment where the water was. Instead of clear water, something else was in there. I pulled the lid off and retrieved my underwear, carrying it straight to the laundry. "Rise above it, Mary-Anne," Tyra's voice rang in my head. "You're stronger than that." Tyra was right. I was stronger and form that moment on I was going to pretend that Emily didn't exist.


End file.
